Cliff
by Taouret
Summary: Albus Dumbledore is having it both ways. He knew it was dangerous, but the balance is kept. Until it isn't anymore. After finding some compromising letters – among other things, Travers locks him up in a cell. And he will use any means to stop Grindelwald. However, there is a tiny problem: Albus Dumbledore has his own demons and poking at them is really a bad idea…


**Hello there !**

**This is the first part of a three parts work I wrote. It has also been posted on Ao3 so don't be surprised to find it there too. **

**It is written in English but it's clearly not my first language so sorry for all the mistakes you will find in it. **

**I hope you will like it. It's mostly a Dark!Albus AU, so don't be surprised !**

* * *

**Part 1**

All his life, Albus Dumbledore had had the impression that he was walking along a cliff. And the void was drawing him, was tempting him.

The only thing that made him stay there was his conscience.

Not his happiness.

* * *

Albus opened his eyes. He was so comfortable, he didn't want to move. But he knew he had to. The sun was long gone behind the heavy curtains and he needed to come back to Hogwarts. He stretched out and tried to leave the bed when a sneaky arm curled around his waist. He let himself be drag back under the sheets but protested:

"I work tomorrow, and I have some papers to check. I can't stay here."

What he said was so mundane that it could have been considered as ridiculous. Not: "I need to go because you are the most wanted man in Europe and beyond". Not: "I need to go because you are a murderer, a terrorist.". If he wasn't waiting eagerly for each of their meetings, he would have slapped himself. But he decided some time ago that when he was here, he needed to let go of his guilt.

"You could stay if you wanted…" Gellert mumbled in his back.

"I don't like your violent ways and I don't think your followers would be happy to see me."

"I don't care. I would not give them a choice. Stay, love. Stay with me. You belong by my side."

"You say this because you don't want me in your way. I know how you work."

"That's why you sent Newton Scamander against me in New York?"

"I didn't send him against you."

"Yes, you did."

"No, I didn't."

"Why do you like him so much?" Gellert complained. "He is just some weird boy…"

Albus couldn't help himself and chuckled:

"Are you really jealous of my student?"

"Your student?"

"My ex-student," Albus corrected while rolling his eyes. "I'm not interested in him, you should know that."

"And yet, you continue to go against me when we could be together."

"We have already talk about this. I really need to go."

Gellert finally let him go and he began to pick up his clothes. The dark wizard was looking at him from the bed, entirely nude, without any shame. But to be honest, it was not surprising: even if he would never have admitted it, he was kind of an exhibitionist when it came to Albus. The latter remembered how much the blond was awkward when he was 16. He, himself, was too. Oh, how things had changed.

"You would not stay with me, even to celebrate my latest break-out?"

"You would like me to reward you for breaking the law?"

"Wouldn't it be worth it?"

Albus stopped and looked at him. Why Gellert had to be Grindelwald? Couldn't he just stay as Gellert all the time? No, he couldn't. And maybe, if he was honest with himself, Albus wouldn't have loved him as much if he had been tamed. Even if now, it was maybe a bit too much.

"Don't you think it was glorious? I had so much fun, you have no idea."

"I can only imagine. Making fools of themselves after holding you for six months…"

At that, Gellert fell silent and then said:

"They cut my follower's tongue, you know? Poor boy… They thought it was me and hop! Isn't it sad?"

"And you seduced him in order to sacrifice him at your place?"

""seduce" is a big word for what I did: I just showed him the truth and then he knew where to put his trust. Are you jealous, Al'?"

"Why would I be jealous? I have no intention to have my tongue cut for your benefice."

"It would be a shame by that. It's a wicked thing, your tongue. I would miss it."

"But you wouldn't miss Mister Abernathy's one?"

"How do you know his name?" Gellert asked, a little bit surprised.

"I have my ways."

"I see. Maybe it's time to have a clear-cut in my followers… What do you think about it, Al'?"

Albus didn't answer to that. He really needed to go back to Hogwarts. He was afraid that the Ministry was keeping a close eye on him and if he was not careful, his situation wouldn't be nice to look at. He knew having it both ways was dangerous. And hypocritical. But he couldn't help himself and for now, the balance was kept.

He came near the bed and kissed his lover, who was still in bed. His followers could wait after all. Miss Rosier was ruling over them while they were together. Which was a cause of worries for the Muggles: she was worse than Grindelwald.

"Until next time. Don't kill too many people while I'm away."

"Stay with me. You could be my conscience. I would change my ways for you."

"I can't. And I'm pretty sure you won't. Plus, Travers is already on my heels. No need to give him a reason to lock me in Azkaban, right? It would be more difficult to escape from there than from the American Ministry."

It was time to go and when he reached the door, he heard Gellert saying:

"Do you want to keep it, love?"

Albus froze. He didn't even need to turn over to know what he was talking about. He was pretty sure that if he did, he would see their blood troth in his lover's hand. It was a vicious game they were playing, really. But it was better like this: the red-hair wanted to keep his reason to say "no" when the Ministry was asking him to fight his secret lover. Or at least, a reason he could state without having too many problems.

"No."

* * *

Albus Dumbledore was living an existence of shame and guilt. Except when he was with Gellert. It was amazing, incredible, how much the latter was able to silence his conscience. And maybe, Dumbledore had become addicted to this feeling.

And maybe, it was the reason why he hadn't been more suspicious when he had received the missive. But after all, everything was the same as usual and there was no reason to think the Ministry had become competent. I would have been quite out of character for them.

But there he was. Surrounded by aurors. They had appeared the moment the door in front of him had opened.

"Dumbledore! Surprise! I'm not the one you were expected? Not too much disappointed?"

Travers… always him. If this stupid little rat was a pain in his ass before, it was even worse now. Albus didn't think twice and drew his wand.

"If I were you, I would not do that…"

And in fact, it was a bad idea because some auror disarmed him before he could have done anything.

"You…"

"I knew there was something strange about you. But this?" he said while leading him in the bedroom. "If I had imagined one second… I will give you this: your secret was very well hidden. But in this end, your old correspondence was a true treasure. Even if I now want to wash my eyes with bleach."

Albus didn't know if the image of the head of the aurors reading his teenage sugary prose and seeing some of Gellert's drawing (which included the British totally naked, a lot) was appalling or hilarious. A little bit of both without doubt.

"Travers… I don't know what you are talking about."

It was the weakest lie he ever said. But he didn't have anything better in store, right now. His mind was trying at the same time to understand how the Ministry had found these letters and how to save himself from this mess. Both were difficult, even for his brilliant mind, when some aurors were menacing him and his own wand was in Travers' hand. Maybe wandless magic was a possibility, he just needed to find the right moment.

"It is difficult, you know? Imagining the darkest wizard of the world with his lover, the _Great Albus Dumbledore_, in this so common little room. Because that's what you are, right? Oh! No need to make this face: I can assure you that being a sodomite is the last of your concerns!"

Albus had decided it was better to stay silent. After all, at this point, it was way too late to come up with a defence. But then, Travers said:

"But be sure that we will use that particular information against him at the right time."

"What?"

He couldn't really explain it but the idea to use Gellert's sexual orientation against him, when there was so many other possibilities – about way worst things, seemed obscene to him. Maybe because Gellert's love for him, for a _man_, was the only thing that kept the dark wizard to lash out on Great Britain. Or maybe because it was not something he had to be judge on: there was plenty other things more atrocious about Gellert Grindelwald.

"Oh! I'm pretty sure he is going to lose some followers. After all, who would like to serve a sodomite? We will see what Purebloods detest the most between this and Muggles…"

"You mean that you would prefer to use this against Gellert rather than showing that the Ministry is a better option?"

When Travers was going to answer to the poor argument, Albus chose this moment to attack. He unleashed his magic and the aurors flew away. He would not have admitted it but it was satisfying to use it in an offensive way on someone. But suddenly, he felt a sting on his neck. He touched it and found some dart.

"What?" he began after falling on the floor, paralysed.

He saw Travers shoes and then the latter was crouching in front of him. He seemed so smug that it was difficult not to punch him in the face. Fortunately for the head of the aurors, Albus couldn't move anymore.

"Dumbledore, the Muggles lover… taken down by some Muggle invention. Ironic, isn't it?"

And truly, it was. Maybe Gellert was right when he said time and time again that it would be his demise. But really, this was pathetic and not at all how the most brilliant wizard of his generation thought he would end.

And there he was.

* * *

If Albus has been in a better state, he would have said that using _Endoloris_ on someone in order to worm out informations was a bad idea. Most of the time, torture was only useful to make someone say whatever their persecutors wanted to make the pain stop.

But he couldn't. It was too hard to even speak. He couldn't think about why they stopped asking questions a long time ago. Was it, at this point, only a punition? But he hasn't be judged by the law, yet. He hadn't be brought before a tribunal. Technically he was still innocent – even if he knew himself, he wasn't. So why?

And then, he was left alone. The dark curse ceased. The pain stayed but duller, less vivid. He heard his torturer speaking to someone else:

"I think it's good. I managed to leave him conscious."

"Great. Like that, our Legilimens will be able to search into his nasty secrets."

This irritating voice belonged to a man he knew but he couldn't remember well. However, there were more important things. So, it was the reason of this whole torture. Making him weak enough in order to go lurking into his mind. But he wouldn't let them do what they wanted. He just couldn't stay here while having his mind violated.

"You can't do that…" he managed to articulate with a hoarse voice from screaming. "It's against the… law…"

"Ha? You can still speak, Mister Dumbledore? You are truly impressive. But it's a matter of national… no, Mondial security. So, we are granted unlimited power upon you in order to take down the terrorist Gellert Grindelwald. I don't think you know it, but he made quite a spectacle in Paris. Fortunately, the Scamander brothers were there… I would never have thought I would thank Newt… Especially, when he delivered a so pretty present."

"But of course, you did not… manage… to stop… Gellert…"

Maybe he should not have done this. Because clearly, it angered the man.

"Don't be too happy", he hissed. "It's a question of time before we catch your… _friend_. But for now, we may proceed. It's time for us to visit your sweet memories, Dumbledore. We would like to find more about this so lovely made brooch Grindelwald is always carrying. And I'm pretty sure you have something to do with it."

And Travers, because of course it was him, didn't know the huge mistake he was going to make. He really didn't. Because, if he had, he wouldn't have poke Albus Dumbledore's demons.

There were creatures which were better to be locked up.

* * *

Albus Dumbledore was standing at the top of a cliff. And the void has never been this tempting. And the dark and deep sea has never been that dangerous. And the salted wind was making his bright hair sticky.

He was crying and he didn't even know why. No, it wasn't true: he did know why. He just didn't want to think about it. Because everyone knew. Everyone was judging him. Everyone was a fool. But nobody was enough aware to realise it.

Albus blinked several times. And the seventh time, his own demon, his personal temptation appeared. The fallen angel incarnated. As sweet as a sin.

"Why are you here? cried Albus. Why are you always here? Why do you still want me? I am no good, don't you see?"

His long-lost love didn't answer. He came nearer. Until he was close enough for Albus to see his mischievous mismatched eyes. He could still drown into them.

"Don't be afraid, Al', I will always hold your hand. But for now, it's time to sleep."

Gellert smiled at him, while saying this. A sweet smile, a true smile. A smile which was Albus'. _And no one else's_. Albus looked at the offered hand and, after a second that last like eternity, took it. Because it was true: as long as Gellert was with him, everything would be fine. They enlaced each other and with a simple push, Albus fell from the cliff. But his love was holding him and nothing else did matter.

At the end, he has not been strong enough to wear his perfect persona until the end. Maybe because deep down inside him, he didn't really want to. It didn't matter.

And then, at last, he was home.

* * *

When Albus opened his eyes, he knew he wasn't in Azkaban. He had never been there, but he was sure it was colder. He was sure it wasn't where his father has been detained for so long. There was not the lingering despair that came off with the dementors. Truly some charming creatures. Slowly, the former professor tried to sit down more properly. It was difficult at first, but he managed to do it.

The Ministry. He was still there. He didn't really know why: after they tore his mind, trampled on his memories, his life, what good could he be? Maybe they wanted to use him as a scapegoat? After all, it would have been fair: he had slept with the Enemy while pretending to fight it. "Pretending": of course, it would be what everyone would think. When he was pretty sure that he was the only reason Great Britain has not been directly targeted by Grindelwald. The irony.

But to be honest, now, he didn't give a fuck. He didn't give a fuck about Great Britain. About wizards. Even about his dear Hogwarts. No, right now, Albus Dumbledore wanted revenge. And it would end bloodily. Because he had two options: either he was waiting for Gellert to understand that he was held captive and pray for a rescue, or he could save himself.

He was the great Albus Dumbledore. He had already made his choice.

* * *

"Excuse me?"

The guard – who was a young auror, didn't respond. He gave him his food and turned around and walked away. But then, Albus used his joker. People seemed to forget so many things about him. For example, how much skilled he was. And not only with his magic.

"Mister McKinley."

The guard stopped and looked at him with surprise. He seemed to hesitate during a few seconds before saying:

"You remember me?"

"Yes, of course I do. Erik McKinley. You left Hogwarts five years ago. You were very good in transfiguration, even if you were sometimes helped by Miss Miller."

"She is my wife, now."

"Oh! Congratulations! I hope you'll live a long and happy life with her."

"Is that true?" McKinley interrupted him.

"What?"

"The rumour which says that you betrayed us for… for Grindelwald."

Albus wore his comprehensive mask. A mask of trust and confidence. A weapon on its own.

"Someone has to be guilty for them, for the population. And because I knew him when I was 18… I'm the perfect candidate."

"But you are the only one powerful enough to stop him. It's a known fact!"

"I'm pleased to see you think that but it's not what the majority believes now…"

So, it meant that the Ministry had still not given details beyond "Dumbledore works with Grindelwald" yet. It was a chance for him. And a huge mistake for them.

"I need to go now, Professor. I'm sorry…"

"Just a last thing, my boy. Do you know what they are going to do with me? I would prefer to know my fate."

"There will be a public trial. In one week."

"Thank you, Erik."

"I'm coming back soon. Enjoy your meal."

Albus gave him a little smile and the door was closed. He looked at the plate. There was something which seemed vaguely eatable on it. He took it and threw it on the floor. Then, he broke the dishes.

"Oops. What a shame that I will never repay it."

The taboo on Dark Arts in Great Britain was truly a shame. Especially when it came to the most ancient branches like the Blood Arcana. Its particularities were indeed interesting. This magic was based on sacrifice, blood sacrifice obviously. And it needed just a little spark to be activated. Exactly what Dumbledore needed.

Fortunately, the bracelets on his wrists could not suppress entirely his power. Just enough to lower the risk of him being a threat. He looked at his fingers for a moment and decided. He took a fragment of the former plate and slashed the time of them. It was not a lot, but it would work. Eventually.

"Good. Now, it's time to see if I'm still good at this."

And he was the Great Albus Dumbledore: of course, he still was good at this.

* * *

When McKinley came back, he found Dumbledore sitting in the middle of his cell. He was calm, his eyes closed, and everything was okay, except the plate in pieces on the floor.

"Yeah, sorry for that, Erik. I was a bit clumsy after what they had done to me."

It was the moment when McKinley noticed the blood on Albus' hands. He approached the older wizard. He remembered him from Hogwarts and could not help himself but to feel affection for him. He was a good teacher, even if the rumours about him were terrible. He crouched and held his fingers. And when Dumbledore's sleeves were lifted because of his moves, he knew he had made a mistake. A big one.

"I would like to say that I'm sorry about your future death. But, to be honest, _I don't give a fuck_."

And then, he used the piece of plate he had hidden in his sleeve to cut McKinley's throat. Erik tried to stop the flood of blood, but it was not conclusive. Really, the Muggle way of killing people was efficient. But he understood now why Gellert burned his enemy to ashes: it was way cleaner.

Now, he had less than ten minutes before some Ministry workers went checking on their missing McKinley. It would be enough, now that he had something like five litres of blood at his disposition. Because yes, the first try was not nearly enough. But now…

* * *

Travers was drinking his tea when an auror entered in his office, panicked. He seemed terrified and Torquil stood up, wand in hand.

"What is happening?"

"Sir… Dumbledore escaped!"

"What? Why am I not hearing the alarm? And why are you crying, you bloody idiot?"

"It's just… please…"

"How did he do this? There was protections! How did he leave the Ministry?"

"He did not."

"Explain!"

"He did not leave… he is actually doing a murderous rampage… I don't know, he is using a weird magic… and…"

"And you couldn't say it before?" Travers yelled.

He ran to the door, but the door opened before he could reach it. And it revealed:

"Travers! Surprise! I'm not the one you were expected? Not too much disappointed?"

Before Torquil could do anything, his wand flew in Albus' hand. Without waiting, the wizard broke it and moved his hand in the direction of the other auror. The latter began to levitate. Held by his throat thanks to invisible hands. He tried to kick in the air, without any success.

"Why are you looking at me like that, Torquil? Who do you think I am? I was known to be a white wizard, it's true. But it doesn't mean that I don't know how to use the Dark Arts. And wandless magic, of course. Unfortunately, it's not something you practice, right? What a shame, really…"

In the background, the auror had stopped moving and Albus finally let him fall on the floor. The sound of it was a revelation for Travers. He was in a very bad position and he didn't understand why no one has not come to arrest the prisoner, yet. Was it possible that he had killed everyone? It was impossible! Especially since he has not his wand with him, right? Or maybe it had something to do with all the blood and the symbol painted on his forearms. He needed to find a solution, quickly. Because the Dumbledore ha had in front of him seemed sweetly murderous, which was a little bit terrifying.

"What do you want?" he hissed. "If it's your wand, it had already been destroyed."

At this moment, Dumbledore was looking at him as if he was a child who couldn't understand the simplest instructions.

"Oh Torquil… I don't need my wand, right now. What I want is ten minutes of your time. Which will be… your last ones, I guess?"

* * *

Dumbledore was sitting in Godric's Hollow graveyard, in front of his mother's and little sister's tombstones. He didn't know how he had managed to come here but he did it anyway. He had killed a lot of people today. Most of them didn't have a chance. It was horrible but he was curiously calm. He was serene. What he had done did not really matter. After all, they were not dear to his heart. He didn't even know the majority.

But Travers? He deserved it. He had spoiled things that Albus cherished. It was normal for him to pay the bill. What could he do, right now? His life in Hogwarts was over. His life as the Great Albus Dumbledore was over: nobody would accept him. Especially after the slaughter he has done in the Ministry. But they were so easy to kill: what is really a surprise they could not manage to stop Gellert?

He stared into space. He could not see his former home from here, but he could make out Bathilda's house roof. Maybe she was home. However, going to see her was not a good idea: he was a criminal now and even if she was okay to receive him, it would be dangerous for her.

He looked at his forearms which were stained by blood. He had painted there some ancient runes. He was not the specialist in this subject. Gellert was, notably because he studied in Durmstrang, in the North. Transfiguration was way more enjoyable in his opinion. Yet, in this situation, it helped him a lot. Now, he needed to find a wand and…

He was drawn from his thought by a crack, the sound of someone _apparating_. He picked himself back and examined the man who was coming in front of him. He had a small smile on his face. He was well dressed but compared to Albus, it was not that difficult.

"How did you know I would be here?" he asked.

"I know you would come back where everything began. I know you, Al'."

He sat next to the former professor. Grindelwald was way too entertained by everything that happened. He didn't have the right to be here, in front of Ariana's grave. But Albus didn't care. He needed him, right now. In a similar way as in 1899. But today, Gellert was here, with him.

"It was quite a show you made, in the Ministry. You almost impressed Vinda. What happened?"

"They… they tortured me. And then, they… they investigated through my memories. _All_ of them. They had _no right_ to do this. _None_."

Grindelwald had tensed next to him. He understood the seriousness of what happened. It was a serious blow, on his plan but also on his lover. But maybe, it was a good thing in the end: he could get his biggest threat back. He would deal with everything else later.

"I wanted to kill them so much, you have no idea…"

"You did well." Gellert simply answered. "I would have murder them for what they have done to you anyway."

"Because you are the only one who can torment me?"

A smirk appeared on Grindelwald's face:

"Exactly."

Dumbledore sighed. He put his head on the other's shoulder. Now that the illusion he had carefully craft around himself had vanished, he felt freer. He could do anything he wanted. His conscience was asleep. Now it was the time for _fun_. For forbidden experiences. For dangerous spells. For everything he could hope. Who needed morals while having almost god-like power, anyway?

"Gel'… I think I might need a new dwelling. I could probably consider myself discharged from my position in Hogwarts. Do you have any idea?"

"Hum… I don't know. Have you ever seen the Austrian Alps?"


End file.
